When The Sun Goes Down
by mousers
Summary: "There's a girl in your bed." Adult themes and bad language. Fem!Italy.
1. Chapter 1

Whoa, where did this come from. I'll explain at the bottom. XD Enjoy.

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"There's a girl in your bed," announced Gilbert, sluggishly scraping a chair back and picking up a handful of his brother's breakfast. "You do know you're allowed to sleep in the same bed after you've fucked?"

"Don't be vulgar," condemned the younger of the two, and he shot a glower at the mouth now chewing his toast. "Not that you would have any idea what happened last night," added Ludwig with a smug, rather pretentious sip of his orange juice.

Gilbert groaned and pouted, his head hitting the table with a dull thud. He rolled his fingertip around guiltily. "It was Francis' fault. You're not gonna lecture me now, are you?"

"Ja, I'm sure it was Francis' fault that you drank excessively and had your phone turned off-"

"You kept calling!"

Ludwig gave an exasperated sigh and ran a hand through his hair, watching the tips of his fringe, usually so immaculately gelled, fall rebelliously back over his eyes. He hadn't even showered yet. It was always shower then breakfast. See, none of this would have happened if Gilbert had just kept him informed, his brother was always causing him trouble, if he hadn't gone out at God-knows-what-time in the morning to try and find him then-

"Outta aspirin," muttered the albino, the elder of them, slamming the cupboard door shut, immediately wincing at the noise, and then glaring, as if to accuse Ludwig of purposefully not restocking. "Going back to bed."

"No, you're not. You're cleaning up," he was challenged in retaliation, Ludwig reaching around his brother to carefully throw his plate in the sink.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!"

"I had to get out of bed at three in the morning to find you and your stupid friends," warned Ludwig quietly, his nose close to Gilbert's face, speaking in the villainously calm tone he seemed to carry easily. "Clean up in here, and then the bathroom." He turned on his heel and left the room.

Gilbert's shoulders deflated, looking at the cutlery in the sink. "Why the bathroom?"

His voice suddenly barked. "Because you never clean it!"

"Because you're the only one who cares if it's clean!"

"It's my house!"

"Fuck your house!" objected Gilbert articulately, throwing a one fingered salute to the ceiling, where he heard Ludwig's footsteps in the room above.

And then lighter footsteps, and a concerned female voice.

Then Ludwig's, now with more reassuring tones.

And lighter feet walking downstairs.

Gilbert balked, picked up a cloth and started to clean, trying to look inconspicuous for when she entered. She had been lying in his brother's bed with her back to him. She looked petite. She had brown hair and a white sweater on. Apart from that-

"Is everything okay?"

Her voice was romantically accented. To match her hair (scraped in a bed-headed manner into a ponytail with curled ends, and a soft fringe) she had wide, brown eyes and lightly tanned skin. Her white sweater was sizes too large for her, and adorned with the German team's national colours, in a familiar design, Gilbert realised, from the World Cup in Berlin, where Ludwig had bought it in the first place, a few years ago.

She looked at Gilbert. Studied him for a moment.

Her wide brown eyes grew wider, and fell cold. Her small mouth opened in a silent revelation.

Gilbert wrung the cloth between his pale fingers, and let his shoulders re-tense.

"Shit," he admitted quietly.

She nodded her agreement.

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Okay, I was listening to "When The Sun Goes Down" by Arctic Monkeys and it just ...happened. . _ . Bet you all have the gist now I've told you that, haha. Anyway, this is just a prologue. Let me know if you're interested so far :D


	2. Chapter 2

This was definitely one of the more awkward car journeys Ludwig had ever endured.

And that included the night before.

Because now he was fully and awake and he was thinking properly, unlike the night before, and understood the enormous… awkwardness… of the situation.

He still didn't quite know what he had been thinking. He was dreading the moment he re-entered his home, and had to face Gilbert. Although, to his brother's credit, he hadn't said anything while… the young women currently humming quietly to herself and staring out the window… had been around. He'd looked distressed, if anything, constantly flashing quick looks between Ludwig and the Italian girl, but had been silent, in a strange bout of politeness and bewilderment.

She was quiet too. After rooting loudly in her bag, she called "ciao" to Gilbert, took her phone, and passed Ludwig on the stairs, going to privacy to call her brother.

It had been an odd morning, with Gilbert quietly cleaning and rapid Italian emanating from the room upstairs.

"It's left here," Feliciana told him, pointing to the right. "I mean, where I just…" she pointed again to clarify, and cleared her throat. "Never learned my directions," she admitted, humming in a more forlorn fashion. She did it a lot, he noticed.

Ludwig nodded, keeping his eyes on the road. And only on the road. The last thing he needed was eye contact. "You speak German very well," he told her, by way of conversation. "Where did you grow up?"

"Rome. But then nonno died, my grandpa, that is, when I was eleven, so I moved to Vienna to live with a man he knew. But Lovi stayed in Rome," she shrugged. She spoke very quickly once given a topic, and enthusiastically, and Ludwig strained slightly to hear past her accent.

"Lovi?"

"My brother."

"He can't have been much older than you."

"He was fifteen. I don't know what he was doing living on his own at that age, he doesn't like to say. I asked him to come with me but he doesn't like living abroad."

"But he's in Berlin now?"

"Yes. It's his-" she stiffened, suddenly agitated, but recovered well, "…his work." Again, she hummed solemnly. "He hates being here. Says it sounds angry."

It seemed politer to nod than debate, so this is what Ludwig did.

There was no way this man had the right to say anyone sounded angry. Feliciana (Ludwig remembered, was her name) had insisted he meet her brother, looking so wounded he felt guilty when he initially refused, so here they were.

Standing in the corridor of a shady-looking block of flats, getting yelled at in a foreign tongue by a young, thin, hard-eyed Italian man, who seemed to suffer chronically from short-man syndrome. He was only inches taller than his petite sister, and had apparently found everything he could possibly be angry about within the situation, if the amount he was talking was anything to go by.

He looked quickly at Ludwig and spat something.

Feliciana defended quickly, and her brother hissed in retaliation.

She hastily smiled brightly, and said Ludwig's name.

Both of them waved their arms at an alarming rate as they spoke.

"Can you wait out here?" asked Feliciana suddenly, being dragged by the wrist into the flat and yelping when the door slammed between them.

Ludwig grimaced in the washed, yellow light. He did not want to wait. He wanted to go home and pretend this never happened. He wanted to run, really desperately wanted to, so that he'd never see her again, and they'd all move on with their lives. But most of all, he really, really, wanted to be able to understand Italian.

It was impossible not to hear them, arguing and debating, each trying to convince the other, if somewhat muffled by the door. But was it really eavesdropping when one couldn't understand?

Ludwig kicked the wall beside his foot in frustration - what could they possibly be saying about a stranger? He watched the paint flake off onto the floor.

The door opened, and he was met with solid eyes, daring beneath a furrowed brow.

"Te. Vai," spat the young man, glaring intensely and pointing to the interior of his home.

"Was?"

"He says you can come in~!" came the chirp from his sister, and the door was slammed behind Ludwig before he had realised what had happened.

There was immediately a small kitchen, adjoined to a living area, with a table with a chair at either end. The Italian man took one and gestured towards the other.

Ludwig sat down awkwardly, looking at the door, and then there was a great smile from Feliciana, standing behind her brother, encouraging him silently, unseen.

"Ora," the short man started, stare as steely as ever. His language and accent purred dangerously. "Come hai conosciuto mia sorella?"

Ludwig looked back helplessly.

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I hate this chapter. :| Thank you so much for all your feedback! It means a lot to me! :')


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